Say Ahh, Please
by Burningbridges
Summary: Barry wakes up one morning to find himself wrongfully admitted to a psychiatric ward that doesn’t seem on the up and up. But to his surprise, he’s not alone.
1. By Appointment

_I had this idea a while back, but held off on it until now. This will be my first relatively serious story in a while – but at the same time, it won't be too serious. Too much seriousness gets to me, and my readers…_

_Anyway, it's about Barry getting stuck in a psychiatric ward, for reasons he doesn't understand, and he soon finds that there's more going on than originally suspected. And on top of that, he runs into a few familiar people. When he finally resolves that they've got to get out of there, all hell breaks loose… What will happen?_

_This is all based loosely on a novella I've been at for the last year, and some of the characters from it are in here… Mostly 'cause I love 'em, and I'm too lazy to make more just for this. Enjoy!_

---

Okay, quick disclaimer… I'm starting to do more of these things… Anyway, obviously, you know that Resident Evil and its characters belong to Capcom. Therefore, anyone who doesn't belong to Capcom (essentially everyone except the four main characters), belongs to me. Good enough.

---

Say "Ahh", Please

By Burning Bridges

There was a voice close by, whispering something indistinct in a guttural trill, just barely loud enough to be heard by the human ear. It was almost impossible to believe it could have been saying anything, but sure enough, the murmur was forming words. This voice drew Barry from his sleep, the continuity of the sound almost annoying, but the tone itself threatening to lull him back into slumber. Slowly, he opened his eyes, being greeted by a faint glow from white walls.

"What?" he said, going to sit up, but falling right out of bed and onto the floor instead. "What the heck?"

He was in a room he'd never seen before, characterized simply by four white walls that formed a room little wider than two walk-in closets. To his right was a barred window, overlooking a small and desolate courtyard ending at a street engaged with morning traffic, while to his left stood a door painted in a color reminiscent of sea-foam green. Aside from the bed, the room stood empty, devoid of anything that might give it an identity.

Barry got to his feet and went to the door, peering out the screened-over glass for any sign of anything. All he could see were other doors lining the opposite wall, exactly like his, labeled with ascending numbers starting at 403. He had no idea where he could possibly be… And there was only one way to find out.

"Is anyone out there?" he shouted, hitting the door a few times with his hand. "Would someone like to explain to me where the hell I am?"

His shouting seemed to arouse the attention of whoever was in the other rooms, as he heard other voices suddenly break the quiet that the trill had filled before with. He waited, observing the hall, but still seeing nothing.

"Where on earth am I?" he said to himself, turning away and allowing his gaze to fall on the window. "How did I get here? The last thing I remember, I was walking to the bar to meet Chris…"

There was a sudden sound from behind him, and he turned to see a man in a white lab coat unlocking the door. At fist glance, this guy seemed rather unassuming. He was about Barry's height, if not an inch or two shorter, probably no older than 33, with hair that was apparently bleached blond since the roots were still a deep auburn. His expression was a paradoxical mixture of vexation and tolerance as he stepped in and forced a civil smile, closing the door behind him.

"What's the problem, Barry?" he asked in a low-tone, failing to fully disguise the irritation in his voice.

"Wait… Who are you? How do you know me?" Barry said apprehensively. He'd never seen this guy before, and he was sure he would remember someone that fit his description. The bleach-blond looked miffed.

"I'm your psychiatrist, Dr. Heilen."

Barry stared at him, still completely lost. He was also sure that he didn't know any psychiatrists, least of which, any he would go to for anything.

"I don't have a psychiatrist. Where am I, and how did I get here?" he demanded, and the doctor grinned slightly.

"You're in Olecranon Medical Facility; specifically, in the east wing of the psychiatric ward. We brought you in last night and admitted you, to keep you safe," Dr. Heilen replied matter-of-factly, not seeming too concerned by the questions he was getting.

"Safe from what?" Barry asked in disbelief.

"Yourself. You're sick, Barry, and for the meantime, you need to be somewhere that you can be looked after."

"What do you mean, I'm 'sick'? My frame of mind is perfectly normal!" Barry said loudly, and Dr. Heilen took on a mordant tone.

"Keep it down, if you please. Your shouting earlier upset the other patients, and if you don't refrain, I'll have to put you in isolation."

"Who's responsible for this?" he asked, more calmly, but maintaining an authorative tone. Barry knew his family wouldn't do this to him, and of all the people he did know who might, he didn't know of anybody who wouldn't have discussed it with him first. He didn't even have a clue of how he'd gotten here – the last thing he remembered was walking down the street. For that matter, he'd never even heard of the place…

"Now, now," the doctor said with a smile, "You'll understand everything eventually. It will be okay, trust me."

"I have a right to know - "

There was some loud screaming nearby suddenly, and Dr. Heilen glanced over his shoulder and out the door tensely.

"If you'll excuse me, I've got to be off. But someone will be around soon with your medication," he said, starting to open the door, "If you're quiet, you can walk around a little bit and get to know your new friends."

Before Barry could say another word, he left the room, making sure the door was locked and running off hastily.

"What is happening?" Barry asked himself dejectedly, crossing the room and sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked out the window again, watching cars pass the courtyard on their way to work, and wondering if anyone he knew happened to be nearby. Even if they were, he had no way of getting their attention.

"Olecranon", as the doctor had named it, stood on the corner of two streets; lined, on either side of the lot, with trees of some kind. The courtyard, which didn't seem to be cared for so well, was virtually empty of anything living, except for pale and sickly grass that had sprouted in a thin carpet over torn up dirt and rocks. The soil in the lot must have been poor in nutrients, for even the trees that lined the street started to become leafless and unhealthy-looking as they got closer to the building. The smaller structures nearby, a combination of houses and shops, almost looked sick themselves, mostly painted in shades of brown and white, except for one or two in bright pastels. This area of the city was almost ominous on a cloudy day.

Barry was so caught-up in the scenery that he didn't hear someone come in behind him, that is, until they spoke.

"I have your medicine for you."

Barry turned abruptly, startled by the sudden words. He laid eyes on a short, stocky man in white scrubs. This guy was a little younger than the doctor, with an expression that seemed to radiate merriment, and green eyes almost hidden under a mop of curly brown hair. He held his cupped hand out to Barry, coming towards him from by the door.

"Nasty day out, huh?" he asked with a pleasant smile, but Barry just looked at him weird.

"What are these for?" he questioned; looking at the two pills the guy had given him. The man just shook his head.

"I don't really know. I just started working here, and I still need to learn to recognize these things…" he explained, going back out into the hall and closing the door behind him.

Barry looked at the pills for a while. He didn't know what they were, or what they would do, but he knew he wasn't crazy. He watched the door for a minute, and when he was certain that no one was around, he stuffed the pills as far under the mattress of his bed as he could, just in time for the door to open again. He pulled his arm out, and returned to a normal sitting position. The same guy that had given him the pills came back in, and waved to him to follow.

"You can walk around now. The day room is right down the hall there."

Barry didn't reply, he just got up and slowly headed out into the hall, looking around at his surroundings cautiously. The hall was virtually empty, and quiet except for a creaking sob-like sound from the light fixtures overhead, which swung back and forth irritably for no apparent reason. The walls were a strange color of blue-green, characterized by patches of peeling paint that revealed white and yellow underneath. There was a metal door with a screened window at the end of the hall, which he guessed led to the day room.

Opening it, he was greeted by the sound of violin music somewhere nearby as he stepped in, getting a rather malevolent look from a nurse at the desk to his left. It was a normal sort of room, painted a soft crème color, and full of lounge chairs. Studying its contents, he spotted something that both thrilled and disturbed him at the same time. On the opposite side of the room, sitting in adjacent chairs, were none other than Jill Valentine and William Birkin.

---

_Yup, so he's not totally alone. There's one other person he's going to find there, but you won't find out whom until next time. The beginning was better than the end, but when I wrote the beginning I didn't have someone chattering to me about Golden Eye. Well, whatever. It'll improve over time._

_Leave me a review, and let me know whether or not you liked it, and all that! Thanks for reading!_


	2. Queen's English

… _Wow, it's been a while since I started this. I kinda quit working on it when some stuff started going on, and then I couldn't think of anything to write in it (a lot like the novella/video game I'm writing/designing that this is based on – I haven't worked on that in a really long time either). Uh… I barely remember what my original intentions for this story were, except for some small pieces of dialogue I saved somewhere, but I'll come up with something. There's another story I haven't touched in like a bazillion years that I want to finally finish the first chapter, but it's a really cheesy idea, so this comes first… hopefully. _

_I guess this story won't be an all-out comedy, but it will be something I've never done before – a serious story with strange and sometimes really retarded dialogue… like if you took a bunch of idiots and put them in a horror movie…like "Scary Movie" or "I Know What You Did Last Friday the Thirteenth". I hope something makes someone laugh somewhere along the line… _

_------------------------_

Chapter 2: Queen's English

Barry just stood there, staring across the room at them in disbelief, still trying to process what had happened since the night before. They hadn't noticed him, despite the door closing loudly behind him, apparently too engrossed in a quiet conversation as they looked intently out a row of three large, rain-streaked windows that had been nailed shut.

Barry headed slowly toward them, not knowing exactly what to say.

"Jill, are you deaf and peripherally blind?"

Jill turned sharply, a slight smile spreading across her face when she laid eyes on him. "Barry, you're here, too?" she whispered in a relived tone.

"What's going on?" he asked, and Jill motioned for him to sit down next to Birkin, who scrutinized him in silence, with a somber expression.

"Not too loud," Jill said quietly, "Try to be inconspicuous…"

Barry took the seat next to Birkin, leaning forward and taking on a hushed tone. "How did you get here?"

"I don't know." Jill shook her head. "The last thing I remember, I was about to enter my apartment building…"

"I was on my way to the bar to talk to Chris," Barry informed them. "What about you, Will?"

"That's 'William' to you," he grumbled, looking back out the window. "I was leaving the lab."

"Isn't that kind of weird? We were all going someplace, then the next thing we know we're in a mental institution," Barry mused to himself, and Jill gave him a funny look.

"'Kind of'? What the heck are you taking?"

"That reminds me," Barry said suddenly, completely disregarding what Jill had just said. "Did anyone explain to you why you're here?"

"No, but some badly bleached-blond guy told me that I'm not right in the head," she replied, "Which isn't true."

"I don't know about that," he chuckled, "But the blond guy is a psychiatrist."

"Are you implying something about my mindset? Did you call me 'peripherally blind'?" Jill said, getting to her feet and crossing her arms in a piqued fashion.

But he wasn't paying attention. As soon as he had uttered his last sentence, he became aware of something that hadn't been there before, something that definitely shouldn't be there; a creature that, although logic would clearly say that no such thing could exist, it was very real to him.

This _something _appeared to have the physique of a black panther, but the tail was bushy, the ears looked feathery… And on closer inspection, there were no facial features whatsoever except for a pair of dog-like orange eyes that gazed constantly straight ahead. It paced along the wall at the opposite end of the room, its large paws treading heavily on the white tile. But no one seemed to notice it…

"Did you just go catatonic, or something?" Jill questioned, waving a hand in his face, and he shook his head slowly.

"You didn't see that?"

"See what?" Jill looked at him oddly.

"That black thing across the room," Barry said, staring at the spot where it had been.

Jill observed the room, seeing nothing in particular that was black. "What are you talking about?"

"Never mind," he said, shaking his head again and dismissing the whole incident, although it still bothered him. "What are we going to do about this mess?"

"What are we supposed to do? We're stuck in a mental ward, Barry," Jill said quietly, eying the charge nurse at the desk who was busy scribbling.

"We don't belong here, and that means we shouldn't be here, and if I know anything at all, that logically means we should leave," Barry explained to Jill, who just rolled her eyes.

"Well, duh, but how do we leave?"

"I don't know. Any ideas, Will?"

Birkin continued to look out the window, his expression becoming rather irritated. "If I did, I wouldn't be sitting here, would I?"

"I don't know… Would you?" the ever-oblivious Barry asked, but Birkin didn't dignify him with an answer.

No one said anything for a while, lost in thought about what to do in a situation like this.

Barry listened intently to the violin music he had heard earlier when he first came in, an almost hypnotic melody that drifted like a river from somewhere nearby. It was subdued, a nearly inaudible whisper of a waltz that seemed like it wasn't meant to be heard by anyone outside of the room that it came from. Almost cautiously, the waltz slowed to a dismal, maybe even warning reprise that came to a sudden halt.

There was a piercing scream from nearby, and the three of them were quite startled. It continued for what seemed like ages, before the ward fell ominously silent. They exchanged disturbed looks.

"What was up with that?" Jill asked, not receiving an answer.

Their gazes' fell upon a white door across the room that was unmarked, which seemed to be the most likely direction the noise had come from. After a few minutes it creaked open slowly and a man with medium-length black hair in a bloodstained lab coat strolled out, walking quickly towards the door Barry had entered through, blood dripping off of his gloves and onto the floor.

They stared as he exited, and another came out of the room where there had been screaming minutes earlier. Dr. Heilen turned and closed the door behind him and headed for the same exit as the bloody guy, glancing over at them with an affable smile on his face. The charge nurse at the desk handed him a clipboard as he passed, and swung the door open wide enough that it slammed shut when he disappeared into the corridor.

"Sinister," Birkin whispered. "… What do you suppose that was all about?"

"I don't think I even want to know," Barry responded, taking a long look at the blood on the floor.

"There's something really wrong with this place," Jill said, "Aside from the fact that we're here…"

There was suddenly a loud clatter in a small hall directly across from the corridor exit and just past the white door. They heard a door swing shut, and a tall thin man who looked like he could be in his sixties walked in, escorting someone they weren't expecting to see, but weren't entirely surprised by either. The old man led him over to the couch that was back to back with theirs and wordlessly directed him to sit down. He then muttered something to which he received a nod in reply, before leaving.

"Uh… Alfred?" Jill said, leaning over the back of the couch and trying to get a better look at him.

"You actually understood what that geezer said?" Barry asked and Jill gave him a dirty look.

"Leave him alone." She turned back to Alfred. "Are you okay? You seem… Different."

"They drugged me," he grumbled quietly.

"Well, that explains something," Barry said, kinda forgetting Alfred was right there.

"What are you trying to imply?" Alfred said, his voice taking on as much of an annoyed tone as was possible for someone with that much sedative in their system.

"That normally you'd be screaming like a gir - "

Jill kicked him in the shin, and he promptly took the hint and shut up.

"Do you remember how you got here or anything from last night?" Jill asked, and Alfred slowly shook his head.

"Nothing."

"What is going on here?" she asked herself. "We're all perfectly - "

With a glance at Alfred she re-thought her statement. " – Semi-normal."

"There has to be a reason why we are here," Birkin said, "But what is it?"

"Maybe there's something more to this place," Barry suggested, "… Or we're actually crazy… And you know what I just realized? I've never actually heard the Queen of England speak the Queen's English… or speak at all for that matter…"

The three of them just stared at Barry, probably questioning if he had some sort of chronic concussion, or if he just did drugs.

"Anyway," Jill said slowly, "All I know is we need to come up with a plan to get the hell out of here."

They sat in silence for a moment, thinking.

"Alfred, what did that old guy say to you, anyway?" Jill asked suddenly.

----------------------

_Yeah, the chapter didn't really get much of anywhere, but I was trying to build onto the first chapter with… well, whatever this was. The next chapter, something will actually happen, aside from weird stuff and talking. The plot will build up, and things will happen, which although it doesn't sound very exciting worded that way, it will be – if my brain works. Which it will. Seriously._

_Okay, I better stop talking like that – I sound like I'm on crack or something. It's gotta be because I'm watching Adult Swim and I'm half asleep…_

_Anyway, leave me a review and let me know what you think!_


	3. Crazy

_Finally, a new chapter. I was beginning to think I'd never get back to working on this again because I was so caught-up in other things. Then I just suddenly felt somewhat inspired, and decided to work on it a bit. I have no clue where this chapter is going, but I'll come up with something. I'm also still working out exactly how Alfred should act in this story – I decided that he'd be drugged up on anti-psychotics, which normally make people kind of zombie-ish, but trying to make him like that is kind of… Awkward. _

_The beginning of this chapter is really weird, like a drug trip or something, but the weirdness will end up being important to the plot later on, so I suppose that it's good that it's so… weird._

_----------------------_

Chapter Three: Crazy

"That guy is _so_ busted," Barry said to himself, meriting a funny look from Birkin, who was sitting next to him.

Before the patients were all to be ushered back off to their rooms, a couple of guys who worked in the ward had turned on a TV in the corner of the day room to occupy them while the staff prepared to switch shifts. Barry was watching Dateline NBC: To Catch a Predator with such concentration that he didn't notice Birkin was staring at him.

"Yeah, that's right. Sit that creep down and find out what he was thinking," Barry said to Chris Hanson like he was right there in the room.

"Are you certain you're not getting a little too into that show?" Birkin asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course not," Barry replied, not bothering to look up from the TV, "You can ever be too into – EWW! That guy is 63 and he wanted to do it with a 13-year-old!"

Birkin rolled his eyes. "I'm not sure what you find so interesting about disturbing men with serious problems that – did that man just say something about having sex with a cat?"

"That's what this show is all about," Barry said in a tone that was just a little too happy. "Damn, that guy is disgusting!"

"Keep it down!" Alfred snapped, giving Barry a dirty look. Since dinner the drugs had apparently started to wear off, since he'd slowly become more like his nasty old self.

"Fine," Barry replied.

"You're going to die in here," someone whispered in his ear.

He blinked a few times, suddenly finding himself lying on his bed, back in his room. He'd been asleep.

He could hear voices close by, and looked around. Dr. Heilen was by the door, with the black-haired man he'd seen earlier. When the psychiatrist realized Barry was awake, he came closer, smiling in that pleasant, yet creepy way he did.

"Barry, I'd like you to meet Dr. Reaver."

"Uh… hi?" Barry said, slightly confused from having just woken up.

Reaver didn't respond. He just stared apathetically at him, his arms crossed. His lab coat was still covered in blood, now dried over for the most part… Except for a few spots that still looked fresh…

"He's going to take you downstairs, and perform a procedure that will make you feel all better."

"What do you mean?"

"He's going to do a lobotomy," Dr. Heilen said on the cheery side, and Barry nearly had a heart attack.

"But those are illegal in this country!"

"Not if you destroy all the evidence," he said, even more cheerfully.

"And secretly employ an unlicensed neurosurgeon that the government doesn't even know about," Dr. Reaver added.

"You're insane!"

"Not at all, my friend. But you are." Dr. Heilen laughed.

Barry sat up in his bed, looking around but not seeing anything in the dim light.

Night had fallen, and the room was dark, except for the blue light from a streetlight in the vicinity that illuminated the walls. The only sound he could hear was the soft splattering of rain outside, which cast long shadows across the ceiling as it ran down the window.

He sighed, falling back onto the bed. "It was just a dream…"

"What was just a dream?" came a voice from very close, and he sat up again, looking around uneasily.

"Who said that?"

"I did," the voice replied.

"Where are you?"

"I'm all around. In fact, I'm right inside your head."

"This can't be happening," Barry murmured, shaking his head.

"It is," the voice said, taking on a sympathetic tone. "You'll come to accept it all someday."

"Come to accept what? I don't even know what I'm talking to, let alone what it's yammering about. This is just a dream, like everything else."

"May I remind you, this isn't a dream? I am as real as anything else in this place."

"Then what are you?"

"I'm a voice inside your head. The Son of Sam had dogs telling him what to do, Norman Bates had his mother and you have me."

"I'm nothing like either of them."

"How do you know? Schizophrenics are so deluded they don't realize there's even anything wrong with them."

"I am not a Schizophrenic!" Barry shouted.

"There's no need to get upset."

"Yes there is! I am not crazy, and there seems to be some confusion about it!"

"You're the only one who's confused. And once you understand that, you'll be much happier."

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

The voice fell silent, leaving Barry to himself, fairly troubled by the incident.

"Am I really crazy?" he asked the darkness quietly, but didn't get a reply.

The next morning…

The sky had turned a putrid shade of green when daylight came, the sound of distant thunder warning of storms somewhere nearby. Only the few pastel colored buildings scattered across Barry's view of the town from his window brightened the scenery.

He sat on his bed in silence, leaning against the cold cement windowsill and watching the grisly, leafless trees lining the street rock back and forth in the wind like they were waving. Waving to him, trapped in this prison of the mind.

The ward was quiet, except for the occasional footsteps of people passing his door. So far he'd only seen one person today, and that had been a skinny blond woman from the kitchen who'd brought him a bowl of something that vaguely looked like oatmeal, but didn't smell anything like it. He had just kept looking out the window, watching the morning traffic come and go, and occasionally wondering where the drivers were headed, what they were doing that day and what their lives were like. Hopefully not like this.

The sound of the door being unbolted didn't stir him from his window watching.

"You didn't eat anything? Are you feeling alright?" the voice he recognized as being the male nurse's asked.

"Not really," he answered simply.

"Did you have bad dreams all night, or something?"

"Yeah, how'd you know that?" He looked curiously over his shoulder at the man, whom just shrugged.

"Everyone here has nights like those. All the time, actually." He came over to Barry's bedside, looking out the window with him. "The weather's been so nasty lately. Maybe it means something."

After a moment, he shook his head, bringing himself back to reality. "Anyway, here are your pills. You should probably eat before you take them."

Barry nodded, taking the pills and continuing to look at the street. He listened to the man leave, bolting the door behind him, and let his gaze slip to the pills in his hand.

One pill makes you larger, and one pill makes you small… 

Should he take them? He still didn't know what they were, or what they would do… But after last night he was afraid to be alone with his own thoughts…

He dismissed the idea of finding out what taking the pills would achieve, and stuffed them under the mattress as he'd done the day before, but this time…

"That's not a very good idea."

He jumped, slowly turning to see a young girl with strawberry blond hair, wearing a green tank top and jeans. "Oh?"

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. But it's not a good idea to keep them there – the nurses might find them when they clean." She smiled sweetly.

"Uh… Thanks … But what are you doing here?"

"My uncle Conrad brought me to work with him today, to visit the patients."

"Your uncle?"

"Dr. Heilen," she replied.

"Ah, yes. I know him," Barry replied, thinking of him with slight bitterness. "He lets you visit patients in a mental ward?"

"He says they get lonely and need someone to talk to, because their families don't come to see them. So I do instead."

"You seem a little young," he said, and she shook her head.

"I'm thirteen. He says that's old enough. And he's the head doctor so no one challenges his decisions."

_Wow, the system of checks and balances works so well here_, he thought sarcastically. "So… My name's Barry. What's yours?"

"Eureka."

"That's an unusual name."

"I think it's Greek for 'I've found it', but I'm not sure… My mom likes really weird stuff."

"Does she know you come here?"

"Yeah, but I don't think she really cares. She spends most of her time on the road, hunting for antiques, and I don't see my father a lot 'cause he's a diplomat, so I live with my uncle."

"Well, there are all types of families," he said, thinking back to _Mrs. Doubtfire_.

"Do you have a family?" she asked.

"A wife and two daughters," he replied despondently. He missed them more than anything right now.

Eureka came over to the bed, sitting down next to him. "How come you're here?"

"To be honest…" he started slowly, questioning whether he should be discussing this with her or not, "… I'm not sure. I woke up here yesterday, and I don't remember much of the night before…"

She didn't reply right away, looking at the door for a long time. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Go ahead."

"I've never told anyone this… I don't know for certain, but from what the other patients have told me, I think this ward might be breaking the law…"

"What do you mean?"

"I've heard that bad things go on here. People go missing, die for no apparent reason…"

"Those things can be explained with simple answers, though. Maybe they went home, or had some sort of disease."

"But sometimes, my uncle brings his work home…"

Barry just stared at her.

"He'll bring home a patient and take them into the back part of the house… Sometimes they come back out, sometimes they don't…"

He shook his head in disbelief. "What?"

"There are secret rooms in the back of the house. I've never seen them, because I'm not allowed to go in there, but I know he takes people back there and does things to them."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. He won't talk about it." She stopped, listening for any sounds in the hallway.

"So why haven't you ever told anyone?"

"Because the last time he did that, it was this man who used to be his physician's assistant. From what I heard, he'd been snooping around… Uncle Conrad brought him home, took him into the back rooms and no one ever saw him again…"

"You don't think he'd hurt you, do you?"

"I don't know. My grandparents always said he was the black sheep of the family and my father called him a psycho a lot…"

The door suddenly opened, and they both jumped. Dr. Heilen stepped into the room, smiling as he usually did, and closed the door behind him. "Having a nice visit, Barry? I see you've met my niece."

"Hi, Uncle Conrad!" Eureka said, going over to him and giving him a hug.

"Are you ready to go to lunch?" he asked, and she nodded. "Alright then. Barry, you can out to the day room now."

Dr. Heilen held the door for him.

"Goodbye, Barry!" Eureka called after him as he walked down the corridor.

The day room looked eerie in the dim light that came through the windows. Everything was shrouded in shadows, as if dusk had begun to fall in the late morning. His three companions were seated in the same spot as yesterday, Jill and William looking outside in silence, while Alfred was drooling on himself.

"Guys," he said quietly when he got over to them, pausing to see if the charge nurse at the desk was paying attention. "I just heard something very disturbing…"

--------------

_Well, the plot is beginning to come together some more – I already know where it's going to go from here, so I can tell you the next chapter will be really weird, and probably somewhat suspenseful. Hopefully next time, though, I'll update it sooner. Now I've got to go work on a bunch of other stuff…_

_Okay, if you're reading this, leave me a review and let me know what you think!_


End file.
